A Mouse's Tale
by aFiashfsdkagnsdlok
Summary: Allen is a magical, possessed, thieving, mouse boy, living on the streets in a fictional nineteenth century. Only accompanied by his bird Tim, and the voice in his head, life is bland. That is, until he meets some eccentric new people... AU


**A Mouse's Tale**

**Chapter 1**

**Introducing: Allen Walker**

**Summary: **Allen is a magical, possessed, thieving mouse boy, living on the streets in a fictional nineteenth century. Only accompanied by his bird Tim, and the voice in his head, life is bland. That is, until he meets some eccentric new people... AU

**Disclaimer: **I don't own DGM, and I'm glad I don't. Because I'd totally screw it up.

(A/N: Before you read this, I would like you to know. Damian is NOT an OC. I'll explain at the end of the chapter. And if you all don't want to wait for an explanation, just scroll down. That is all.)

* * *

No moonlight managed to shine threw the suffocating darkness. No stars twinkled for that matter, either. It was all blanketed by a wispy net of clouds. The only light that cut threw was a dim street lamp's. Even that only seemed to add to the gloom that hovered. But, the light it provided was all that was needed. It was deep in winter, so the thin lining of snow that coated the ground was enough to reflect it, making the landscape barely viewable.

Not that anyone really enjoyed seeing these parts.

Millersville was, in it's own respect, not the prettiest place on Earth. It's shabby houses and other buildings barely proved livable. Livable, for the time being. No one knew when their establishment would have had enough, and keel over with a vicious crack. Taking their lives with it. Which, indirectly is the reason their street lamps had undergone no repairs for quite some time now. People would rather spend their limited allowance on ensuring their house stayed upright, that illuminating the streets on cold winter nights.

And, of course, if Millersville had been a little more prosperous, and were able to afford better streetlamps; it might have been possible to spot the small boy lurking in the dense shadows. But, maybe not, for Allen Walker was very good at not being seen when he didn't want to be.

Twitching nervously, Allen cowered deeper into the darkness. He tried not to move very much, for that was one way to ensure being discovered and caught. He did, however, allow his fingers to twiddle with a small twig that he had collect from the ground earlier. It helped him concentrate some. Flitting eyes zoomed back and forth, warily. He needed to pay absolute attention, and not drift off for one second. No, not one second. One second was all it took for him to fail utterly.

And failure meant death. And if he perished, so did Damian. Allen Walker certainly didn't want Damian to die. If he let Damian die, Damian would be very upset with him.

"_Pay attention, my boy."_

Allen immediately snapped back into focus. The corner of his lip curved downward in an upset fashion, he hadn't realized he was drifting off. That's how it always was with him. Allen was think so hard about focusing, that he somehow ended up becoming completely unfocused. His mind had always had the tendency to go skipping merrily from one thing to another like that—

Oh dear, he was doing it again.

He drew his center of attention to the streetlamp to at least get it somewhere in the vicinity of the place he was supposed to be watching. And away from himself.

The bulb flickered, as though nervous from his unwavering stare. Or, maybe the poor thing was just cold, Allen mused with himself. That was probably it, considering how chilly it was outside. Allen himself would have probably been shivering, except for a week back he had taken Damian's advice, and snagged a cozy coat from one of more richer townsman. They were drunk, of course. (Well, at least Damian said they were, Allen wasn't exactly sure what 'drunk' meant.) The coat was a little big, but served it's purpose of keeping him warm and preventing frostbite.

_"He's coming around the western corner. Don't miss this chance, my boy, or you're eating your boot."_

Allen's twiddling fingers automatically snapped the twig in his grip clean into two. He lowered himself into a low crouch, every muscle poised and ready to spring into a speedy sprint. At the same time, he reached down and grasped the rope he had concealed underneath the snow. He gritted his teeth as the white powder clung to his bare hand, somehow making it older than it already was. It was times like these that he really wished he had stolen some wool gloves too. But there was no time for repenting for, just as predicted, a harried figure came sprinting around the corner. Allen could see the white puffs emitting from his agape mouth as he panted.

With no hesitation, Allen yanked up the rope with vigor. It rose from the snow, making a line across the road where it was tied to the base of the flickering streetlamp. Allen cursed bitterly to himself. He had roused the rope to soon. The man would see, and would dodge his not-so-clever trap.

Luckily for Allen, the man was in to much of a hurry to notice the obvious aerial rope. Running at top speed, the man's foot hooked around the rope and sent him flying face first into the snow laden ground. Not missing a beat, Allen bolted from his hiding place, speeding towards the man. He effortlessly slipped a rusty knife from his pocket and gripped it in his ice licked hand. Not a second later, Allen planted his feet on the man's back, and held the knife to the nape of his neck.

The man tensed as he felt the cold metallic touch of the blade. Allen could eel the shiver of terror run up the man's spine. He felt guilty for scaring him so, Allen would never actually cut someone with his knife. Just the though brought bile to his throat, for some reason.

The man had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Judging by the somewhat skimpy roses in his hand, he had probably meant to visit his lover and give her a pleasant surprise.

And on his way, traveling foolishly at night, he had been caught in Allen's trap.

Well, it technically wasn't _his_ trap. Damian had told him what to do, but Allen had executed it. Following ever line, yup. First, Allen had Timcanpy, his more than normal pet parrot, follow their victim unseen, making random scary noises to work them into a fright. Tim would shepherd them towards where Allen would be waiting with his trap.

Tim was a very smart, and talented, bird. He could make any noise, and make it well. In fact, Allen would have sometimes doubted that he was actually a bird, if it wasn't for his feathered appearance.

Tim was roughly the size of a small dove, but he had a small curved beak and glossy golden feathers. He never seemed to get sick, age, or feel the effects of the cold. He acted almost human, with an obvious smart personality. He was like no bird Allen had ever seen before. Even Damian had no clue what he was. And Damian knew everything. Still, Allen never pondered it very much. He had had Tim ever since he could remember, which was about four years ago. He loved Tim very much.

"P-please… don't k-k-k-kill m-me…"

Swallowing back his guilt, Allen demanded in a hoarse voice: "Money." The terror that ravaged the man caused him to give in with eagerness.

"M-my wallets in… in m-my bottom left p-p-pocket…"

Allen slipped his hand into the pocket and withdrew an old beat up leather wallet. He nimbly climbed off the man and retreated into the shadows yet again. The man stayed collapsed in the middle of the street, still shaking with terror. "E-Eliade…" he moaned to himself.

* * *

Only once Allen was safely in the shadows again, did he examine the contents of the wallet. A low whistle escaped from his mouth. This man had a lot of money for a citizen of Millersville. And also must have been quite stupid to be carrying it around with him like that.

_"Takes one to know one."_

Allen scowled, "That wasn't very nice, Damian."

_"It applies though, considering you forgot the rope."_

Allen blinked dully, "Oh," he uttered. He _had_ forgotten the rope.

_"Fool."_

Allen's lip twitched downward, but decided against talking back. Damian's wit was obviously stronger than his, so in the end he would probably come up with a more stinging comeback and it wouldn't be worth it.

"Either way," Allen spoke aloud, "We have money for food now, and I won't die of starvation."

_"But we have less of it, since you have to buy a new rope."_

"Drop it," Allen growled. Don't get him wrong, he loved Damian a lot. Almost as much as Timcanpy. But Damian nagged a lot, and Allen couldn't get away from him.

Considering they shared the same body.

Roughly a month after he had woken with no memories in his brain, Allen had found himself wandering aimlessly. It was winter then, like it was now, and Allen had been slowly starving, He had found himself in a lonely graveyard for no apparent reason. And that was where he had met Damian.

It had frightened him at first, hearing a voice coming from no where. But since Allen Walker was already on the brink of death he hadn't let it bother him to much. It was then that Damian had offered Allen a deal. The proposition was simple, Damian would take residence inside Allen—he wouldn't control him or anything, just be there—and in return, he would grant Allen the power of metamorphoses.

And thus, Allen had gained his own little voice in his head.

Allen though he had gotten the better part of the bargain. Damian had often given him advice, and saved him from the brink of death multiple times. Having a voice in his head really didn't bother him to much. Plus, he had got a transformation ability out of it too.

_"Hurry up, boy, you don't know if he's following you."_

Then again, Damian could get quite annoying.

Sourly, Allen crammed the wallet and knife into one of his big pockets. Taking a breath, he counted inside his head.

1…2…3…

Noiselessly, Allen Walker disappeared, and in his place scurried a little white mouse. Yes, Allen Walker was a magical, possessed, thieving, mouse boy.

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**Promised explanation: I said Damian wasn't an OC, and he really isn't. He's the 14****th**** Noah, but since I didn't feel like calling him 14****th**** all the time, I gave him a name. I chose Damian, because of the D in -Man… And I like the name Damian. (I actually stole that idea from Akky-Chan o_o) I made his personality a twinge like what I thought Mana's was (since they ARE brothers), in combination with a little more gruffness.**

**If you guys don't like the name Damian, I can change it to the 14****th**** if you want. Or if you don't like me using the 14****th**** all together, since he's kind of a unknown in the anime and will be big in this story, I can change him to something completely different. Though that would kind of wreck some of my casting.**

**I apologize for the shortness, it's an introductory chapter. Reviews are requested.**


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